


You Are Not Alone

by SugarsweetRomantic



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, F/F, Franky's Youth, Little Franky, Minor Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 04:52:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11844324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarsweetRomantic/pseuds/SugarsweetRomantic
Summary: So Matilda’s strong young mind continued to grow, nurtured by the voices of all those authors who had sent their books out into the world like ships on the sea. These books gave Matilda a hopeful and comforting message: You are not alone. - Roald Dahl.A journey into the youth of Franky Doyle, where we meet the woman who damaged her, and the women who saved her.





	You Are Not Alone

**Trigger warnings:**

Mentions and descriptions of physical and emotional child abuse, implied child sexual abuse, mentions of alcoholism. 

 

**Content notes:**

Mentions and descriptions of physical injuries.

 

**Summary:**

So Matilda’s strong young mind continued to grow, nurtured by the voices of all those authors who had sent their books out into the world like ships on the sea. These books gave Matilda a hopeful and comforting message: You are not alone. - Roald Dahl.

 

A journey into the youth of Franky Doyle, where we meet the woman who damaged her, and the women who saved her.

 

**You Are Not Alone**

 

-x-

 

_ All the secrets of the world are contained in books. Read at your own risk. - Lemony Snicket _

 

-x-

 

Franky Doyle shivered as she pulled her coat tighter around her frail body. The July wind was harsh and the cold traveled all the way through her bones, making her joints ache. A cold drop of water landing in her neck made her flinch. 

“Shit,” she mumbled. Just what she needed: rain. She considered going back home, but her mother would still be messing around with some new boyfriend - she would not be welcome back. The rain started falling at a higher frequency. She needed to find shelter, and fast. Looking around, the large building of the public library caught her eye. It was worth a shot.

 

Hesitating slightly as she walked towards the steps, she continued to the doors and entered the building. She was completely drenched. Wiping the rain out of her eyes, she took in the massive building. A sign in front of her pointed her towards the kids’ section. Hopefully she wouldn’t look too out of place there. 

 

The children’s wing was large and bright, decorated with colourful shapes and figures, and most of all, it was warm. As Franky walked into the main area, a friendly-looking woman approached her. Her smile turned into a look of concern as she got closer to Franky.

“Hi there, you look positively soaked!” Franky looked at her incredulously. No shit, Sherlock. She just shrugged in response. 

“Did you come with your parents?” The brunette tried to give the woman a look that asked: ‘Do I look like an adult accompanied me here?’ The woman pressed her lips together.

“Do you have a library card?” Franky bit on her bottom lip, and nearly whispered her confession: “No…” She braced herself for getting thrown out of the building and having to go back into the rain again. 

“That’s okay. I bet you’re in school though, right? If you have your student card for me, you get one for free. Would you like that?” She shrugged again. The woman looked at Franky, and held out a hand. “Come on. Let’s get you a card. And we’ll put that coat on the heater, so it can dry, okay?” Franky once again lifted her shoulders. She did not care, as long as she didn’t have to go back outside yet. 

 

Arriving at the woman’s desk, she handed over her student card.

“Francesca, that’s a lovely name,” she commented.

“I prefer Franky,” the girl replied, making a face at the sound of her legal name. No one called her Francesca. She hated it. She didn’t feel like a Francesca. She was Franky. The librarian chuckled.

“That’s okay. My name is Miss Jennifer, but I prefer Miss Jen. How old are you, Franky?”

“I’m 10.” If her young age astonished the librarian, she didn’t let it show. Handing her her student card back, Miss Jen announced: “Okay, here’s your card. You can borrow up to ten books at a time, and you can have them for four weeks before you have to turn them back in, alright?” Franky nodded. “Do you know what kind of books you like?” Franky thought for a second, she didn’t have a clue. She never read. Her mum never got her books, nor did she ever practice reading with her, so she was bad at it and didn’t like it. The kids at school made fun of her for her reading skills, or lack thereof.

“I can’t read good,” she told Miss Jen. 

“Would you like to go find a book together then?” 

Franky shrugged.

 

Jen White looked on from her desk at the young girl who had wandered into her workplace a couple of hours ago while she sipped her tea. Franky, what a troubled girl she seemed to be. Her coat was too thin for the Melbourne winter weather, and her jeans seemed to be just a few centimetres too short, the girl’s skinny ankles visible to the world. ‘Vulnerable’ was the word that came to mind when she looked at her. The girl looked unsure and out of place, but toughened by whatever she had been through so far in her short life. She was skinny, too skinny. In fact, it was seven o’clock, and Franky didn’t seem to be eager to be getting ready to go home for dinner. Shaking her head, she set her now-empty cup down on her desk and walked over to the girl. As she got closer she could hear her softly pronouncing the syllables she was reading out loud. Clearing her throat as to not startle the young girl, she offered: “Hey Franky, since you are still here, I was wondering…” She let her voice trail off, observing the tiny brunette’s reaction. She politely put the book she was reading down, and looked up at Jennifer. Smiling, she continued: “I brought an extra sandwich to work with me today; would you like the other one?” Franky’s eyes grew huge at the mention of food. 

 

It was nearing closing time, and Jen could still see Franky curled up in the far corner of the seating area. Her heart ached for the girl. She would have to tell her to leave, no matter how much she wanted to be able to offer her shelter just a little longer. Nine o’clock was closing time for the entire building. She packed her things into her bag, grabbed Franky’s thin excuse of a coat and gently strode over to the couch the girl was sitting on. She let out a soft gasp as she could finally see the girl’s face and realised she had fallen asleep. Getting down onto her haunches in front of her, she laid a hand on Franky’s shoulder and softly called out her name. The girl blinked a few times before she really woke up, looking at Jen in confusion, as well as the little orange kitten that was curled up against her.

“That’s Macavity,” Jen explained. “He came walking in here one day, just like you.” Franky smiled at the tiny animal and tenderly stroked his ginger fur.

 

-x-

 

_ Teach me to feel another's woe, to hide the fault I see, that mercy I to others show, that mercy show to me. - Alexander Pope _

 

-x-

 

“Hey Miss Jen,” Franky greeted the friendly librarian as she walked into the designated kids’ wing. The young woman smiled and waved at her from her desk as the young girl made a beeline towards her favourite section: the nonfiction books. Now that the girl had finally discovered the joy of reading, it had become increasingly more apparent that she adored learning new things. Within seconds, Macavity trotted over to the brunette and walked alongside her until she had reached her destination.

“Hey Mac!” Chuckling, Miss Jen made a gentle shushing noise at Franky. 

“Sorry!” the girl whispered, pulling a book off of a shelf. “Do you want to learn about the ancient Romans with me today, Mac?” She brought the book back over to the seat near Jennifer’s desk that by now had become her own designated spot. No one was allowed to sit there but Franky, and Jennifer was not above asking people to find a different spot to sit if they attempted to sit there. As she sat down and pulled her legs underneath her slim body, Macavity jumped up onto Miss Jen’s desk and positioned himself on the corner of the piece of furniture, right in front of Franky. Giggling softly, Franky opened the book and began reading to the cat.

“I think this is where we were. Jupiter was named after a Roman king Zeush. Saturn, who was the previous king of the Gods, began to swallow the children that he had with his wife Ops when they were born.” Franky had to do all she could to contain her laughter. A father eating his children? That seemed ridiculous even to her. Jennifer looked on in amusement.

 

-x-

 

_ Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place. - Kurt Vonnegut _

 

-x-

 

Jennifer had gotten used to seeing Franky come barging in the moment she got out of school. She would come over to her desk, sit in her designated spot, and do her homework. The moment she finished her work, she would grab a book from a shelf and read until closing time, Macavity always in her vicinity. So one Friday afternoon when the clock struck seven and she still hadn’t seen the young brunette, worry clouded her mind. She got up from her desk and walked over to the reception.

“Hey Isaac,” she greeted the doorman. He smiled at her.

“Hello Jen. Is everything okay?”

“Have you seen Franky?” He motioned outside the door to the steps.

“She’s been sitting there for hours.” Jen could make out the silhouette of the girl sitting on the granite steps, her arms wrapped around herself. She rushed outside and made her way over to Franky. As she got closer to her she could see her shoulders were heaving with sobs. Dropping down onto her knees, she felt her tights tear. She couldn’t give a damn.

“Franky, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” The girl daren’t look her in the eye as she sobbed, averting her gaze. She mumbled: “You’re going to hate me.” Shaking her head, Miss Jen replied: “I doubt that. What’s going on?” Still refusing to look up, Franky pulled on the drawstring of her bag and removed something from it, dropping it in Jennifer’s lap. It was a copy of  _ Anne of Green Gables _ , but it had been completely destroyed. The only thing still intact was the label marking it as library property.

“I grew out of my uniform so Mum got angry,” Franky sobbed. “And I can’t pay the fine and now you’ll never allow me to come back here again!” Jen’s heart broke at the sight of the heartbroken girl.

“It’s okay Franky, I’ll replace it. No one has to know.” She had stated her offer without a second thought. How much could one book possibly cost? She didn’t even really care, if she was being completely honest with herself. All she wanted to do was make sure Franky could continue to seek refuge in the library. The girl looked up at her with large, teary eyes.

“No, I have to pay for it myself.” Smiling, Jen shook her head. 

“What about, if, to pay me back, you help me out around here? For an hour a day maybe?” Franky’s eyes lit up at that suggestion. Beaming at her favourite librarian, she stuck out her hand and grabbed Jennifer’s.

“It’s a deal, Miss Jen!”

 

-x-

 

_ “to be // soft // is // to be // powerful” - Milk and Honey, Rupi Kaur _

 

-x-

 

A loud clank brought Jen out of her thoughts while she was going through a list of newly ordered books that were due to come in tomorrow. Looking towards the source of the sound, she saw a mug of steaming hot tea had been placed onto her desk. A small, smiling brunette was standing behind it.

“I made you tea!” Franky proudly announced. Chuckling, Jennifer thought: ‘I can see that.’ 

“Thank you, Franky,” she told the girl as she grabbed the drink and took a tentative sip. The liquid was lukewarm and tasted sickeningly sweet. “It’s lovely.”

 

-x-

 

_ I am aware that I am less than some people prefer me to be, but most people are unaware that I am so much more than what they see. - Douglas Pagels _

 

-x-

 

Jennifer was helping a boy and his mother find a book for a school assignment when suddenly she heard: “That’s not true!” being yelled through the library. 

“Excuse me, I need to go check on this,” she mumbled as she hurried over to the source of the ruckus. That voice could belong to only one child: one Franky Doyle. She rushed over to the other side of the kids’ wing to find Franky surrounded by three boys. They were wearing the same school uniform as she was, and they seemed to be about their age.

“Nah Doyle, your dad abandoned your slut mum and you, and he’s better off without a disaster like you!” one of them taunted. Franky was crying hysterically.

“He’s going to come back for me once he finds a good job! He said so!”

“He lied to you, Doyle. Your dad’s a liar!” the larger of the three called out.

“No!” Jen stepped forward and looked at the boys as she announced: “That’s enough, gentlemen. Get out. Now. Don’t make me call your parents.”

“Oh fuck off, you bitch.” Suddenly, Franky exploded: “Don’t you DARE call her that!” She grabbed the nearest book she could find and hurled it at the group, making them scatter. There was no stopping her now. Anything within her reach that she could lift was being thrown at the bullies, and they ran away to find cover. 

“Franky, I need you to calm down,” Jen stated calmly, standing in the middle of the area as books flew by her head. Very carefully she took a few steps towards the distraught girl.

“They were lying! Dad is coming back for me! And they can’t say that about you!” Franky sobbed as she pushed an entire shelf of books down to the floor in frustration. Jennifer continued to walk towards the little brunette, her palms turned outwards. The moment she was within grasping reach of Franky, she dropped to the floor and pulled the girl with her, holding her in her lap as Franky pushed against her chest, trying to get away.

“No!” Franky repeated as she cried, letting out her anguish and frustration. The dam had broken. “Mum is having a party and I’m not allowed back home tonight. They said my parents didn’t want me.” Jen felt like her heart had shattered into a million pieces.

 

While Franky was attempting to calm down, Miss Jen rubbed gentle circles on her back, softly reciting to her.

“Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all. And sweetest in the Gale is heard, and sore must be the storm that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm. I’ve heard it in the chillest land and on the strangest sea. Yet never, in Extremity, it asked a crumb of me.” Franky looked up at her with big eyes, and asked: “Who wrote that?”

“Emily Elizabeth Dickinson. A load of blah-blah-blah, if you ask me.” The harsh noise piercing the silence nearly made Jen wince. Very calmly, she looked up at the owner of the sharp voice and replied: “It’s a good thing we did not ask you then, Miss Havisham.”

“We will have to call your parents, young lady Doyle.” Jen could feel the girl in her lap tense up at the announcement by her stern colleague. “I will just look up their phone number.” 

“I’ll be right back,” Jennifer whispered as she got up, leaving Franky in the middle of the war zone she had created. She hurried after Miss Havisham, who had already strode into the office. “Joan, I’ll call them. I witnessed what happened.” Her colleagued huffed, and stepped aside so Jen could access the computer.

“Fine. I need to get out of here anyway. Make sure someone cleans this mess up.” With that, the grey-haired woman strode out of the office. Jen let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. Joan Havisham gave her the creeps. Her name was ironically fitting. She pulled up Franky’s file and dialled the number.

_ “Long Dragon Dumpling House, this is Mai speaking. How may I help you?” _ Jennifer’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Hi, this is Jennifer White with the State Library of Victoria calling. I’m looking for Monica Doyle-Moretti?”

_ “I’m sorry, miss, I’ve never heard of her. Hey, boss, have you ever heard of a Monica Doyle-Moretti?” _ It was silent for a few seconds, before the answer came:  _ “No, I think you’ve got the wrong place ma’am. No Monicas here.” _ Smiling, Jennifer shook her head, and answered: “That’s alright, thank you for checking. Have a good evening.” She put the phone back onto the receiver and walked over to Franky. The girl was still sitting in the middle of the destruction, with Miss Havisham standing next to her, towering over her.

“You will clean this up.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Ah! Miss White, have you managed to reach the young lady’s parents?” Franky looked up at Jen, fear spreading across her features. The girl knew exactly what kind of phone number she had given Jen the day she got her library card.

“Yes, I have,” Jen lied. “Once everything has been put back where it belongs, I have agreed to take her to her mother.” The girl’s face turned incredibly pale at the announcement. 

“Very well. Until tomorrow, Miss White.”

“Good night, Miss Havisham.” 

 

Jen watched as Franky got up from her spot on the floor and diligently began putting books back onto the brightly coloured shelves. Crouching down, Jennifer picked up the stuffed animals that had fallen victim to the flying literature and placed them back onto their spots on the sofas.

“You really don’t have to help me, Miss Jen,” Franky mumbled. Smiling, the librarian answered: “I know. But I want to. After all, you defended my honour.” Franky giggled softly at the statement. “But, Franky,” she continued, “the way in which you did that was not okay. Do you understand that?” The girl nodded. “Next time, I want you to use your words or come to me, okay?” Nodding again, Franky murmured: “I’m sorry, Miss Jen.”

 

Once everything had been cleaned up, Jennifer grabbed her things and took Franky to her car.

“It’s old. And yellow,” Franky announced as they approached the vehicle.

“Old, yes. Yellow, yes. But reliable, and all I can afford. Come on, hop on in.” She held the passenger-side door open for the brunette and got in behind the wheel, pulling out of the parking lot and merging with the evening traffic. Franky became increasingly more silent as the drive went on. At the next intersection, she took a right turn.

“You’re going in the wrong direction,” Franky mumbled.

“No, I’m not,” Jen stated. The girl looked at her in confusion. Jen continued on until she reached her intended destination. She pulled up in front of a brick suburban apartment building and killed the engine. 

“Miss Jen, where are we?” Franky asked. Jennifer turned towards the girl and explained: “My apartment.”

“What? Why? I thought you were going to take me to my mum?” Franky’s grip on her bag tightened. Shaking her head, Jen answered: “Well, as you stated, she kicked you out to have a party tonight. I have room, and I could use the company. But, if you want to go to your mum’s, I can drive you there now. No pressure.” Franky vigorously shook her head. Chuckling, Jen opened her door. “Alright. Let’s get inside then.”

 

Franky nearly stared her eyes out when they’d entered the small one-bedroom apartment. It was light and bright. The decorations were minimal, but they were so, so...Miss Jen. She spotted a bird in a cage near the sofa.

“What’s his name?” she asked.

“That’s Kiwi.” Franky giggled at the name, and walked into the room. White bookcases lined the entire far wall of the living room, and they were filled to the brim with books. The young girl walked over to the books and trailed her fingers across the spines.

“Pizza?” Jennifer asked, handing Franky the menu of the nearest delivery place.

 

An hour later they were sitting on Jen’s soft cream-coloured couch, munching on a pepperoni pizza, and watching a movie on TV. Jen smiled as she observed Franky. She seemed happy, and more relaxed than she’d seen her in a long while. Franky yawned as she swallowed her last bite of pizza.

“Tired?” Jen asked. The young girl blushed and nodded. “Okay. I’ll get you something to wear and we’ll head to bed, alright?” Franky nodded again. Walking into her bedroom, Jen raided her closet for something the girl could sleep in. She grabbed an old T-shirt from her high school days from the back and laid it on the bed. It would be a little big on Franky, but it was better than nothing. She walked back into the living room to see Franky gently stroking Kiwi’s feathers through the metal wiring of the cage. The moment she noticed Jen returning, she withdrew her hand as if she’d instantly burnt it.

“It’s okay, Franky, you can pet him. He likes it, see?” She walked over to the little budgie and took him out of the cage, showing him to Franky as she carefully petted his tiny head. The girl beamed as she bent towards the animal and caressed the bright green feathers. The bird chirped happily. 

 

Taking Franky into her bedroom, Jen pointed at the shirt lying on top of the duvet.

“You can wear that to bed if you want. I’ll lay out a toothbrush and some towels for you in the bathroom, okay?” Franky nodded. The librarian walked into the ensuite and grabbed some basic supplies from the cabinets under the sink. Her home wasn’t set up to host a twelve-year-old, but this was much better than Franky being out on the streets tonight. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of the little girl being out there on her own, so vulnerable and scared. She took her hair out of the braided bun she always kept it in, and placed the pins on the counter. Washing her face, she removed her makeup and brushed her hair. She changed into a nightgown and wrapped her robe around her body, and walked back into her bedroom without thinking, completely forgetting that Franky was changing in there. She walked in on the girl pulling her top over her head. Now that the tiny brunette was standing at the foot of the bed in just her underwear, Jen could see angry red marks scattered across her chest, back, and upper legs. She let out a soft gasp at the sight, alerting Franky to her presence in the room. The girl turned red and quickly covered her body with the shirt Jen had given her. It reached halfway across her thighs, and hid the marks from the world.

“It’s nothing,” she mumbled, her head bent towards the floor. Jennifer thought for a minute, and then replied: “If it ever is something, then you can tell me, okay?” Franky nodded. “If you want, I’ve laid out a toothbrush for you. You can use my toothpaste, and anything you find in the cabinets, alright?” The girl nodded again and silently walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. ‘Great going, White,’ Jennifer berated herself. She grabbed a pillow and blanket from the linen closet and went back into the living room, pulling the throw pillows off of the sofa so she could make a bed. 

 

“Miss Jen? Where are you?” Franky’s small voice calling her from the bedroom caught her attention.

“I’m in the living room, Franky.” Soft padding behind her told her the girl had walked into the room. “Is this alright?” Jen asked when the girl had appeared in her line of sight. Smiling, Franky replied: “It’s perfect!” From the looks of it, the girl had combed her hair and brushed her teeth. Jen made a mental note to try to convince her to take a long shower in the morning. Her hair looked like it hadn’t been properly washed in a long time. Maybe she could also get the girl to let her wash and iron her uniform, so it looked just that little bit cleaner and neater. Franky crawled onto the couch, under the blanket, and let out a soft sigh. Jen smiled at the sight.

“Will you be alright out here?” she asked, turning on a small lamp in the corner. Franky nodded.

“Thanks, Miss Jen.” 

“Anytime, Franky. I’ll be in my bedroom if you need me. Sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight.” Jennifer walked into her bedroom, leaving the door open just a notch. She might as well go to sleep as well; it had been a long day.

 

Soft whimpering was the first thing Jen heard when she woke up. The outside world was still dark, and the display of her alarm clock was glaring at her, telling her it was nearly three in the morning. Stepping out of bed, she followed the sound of the near-silent whimpering, leading her into the living room. She found Franky curled up into a foetal position. As she came close, she could hear that the girl kept repeating the same words: “Don’t hurt me. Please, don’t touch me. It hurts.” Suddenly, Jen felt incredibly nauseated. She crouched down next to the sofa and reached out to touch Franky’s hand. The moment she came into contact with Franky’s skin, the girl tensed up and gasped loudly.

“It’s okay, Franky, you’re safe, you’re with me, no one is going to hurt you,” she whispered, choosing to rest her hand near Franky’s face without touching her. “Franky, sweetheart, I need you to wake up. You’re having a nightmare, sunshine, it’s not real. Can you please try to open your eyes for me?” She grabbed a remote from the coffee table and turned on the audio system. Soft piano surrounded them, gently pulling Franky out of her terrors. Her eyes flew open, and she looked disoriented.

“Franky, do you know where you are?” The girl’s eyes flew around the room until they settled on Miss Jen’s face. She nodded hesitantly. “I’m going to hug you, Franky. I promise that I’m not going to hurt you. Do you trust me?” A teary face nodded at her. Jennifer shifted into a sitting position on the floor in front of the makeshift bed, and pulled Franky into her lap. The girl tensed at the initial contact. “It’s okay; you’re safe. No one is going to hurt you, I promise,” Jen whispered as she gently rubbed the brunette’s back. After what felt like hours, Franky finally relaxed, and began sobbing heavily in Jennifer’s arms. “Shh, it’s okay; I’m here. You’re safe,” she tried to soothe the heartbroken, terrified girl shaking in her lap. Gradually, the sobbing lessened, and the trembling stopped. Jen placed a careful kiss on Franky’s temple. Sitting up a little straighter, she asked: “Would you like some hot chocolate?” The girl nodded. “I need to get up for that, sweetheart.” Jen could see the stress level in the tiny brunette increase. “Do you want to help?”

 

Franky had held Jen’s hand the entire time while they had prepared the hot drinks. Jen had taken her into her bedroom with her, and Franky had immediately curled up to the librarian. She was quietly sipping her hot chocolate while Jen softly read to her. She didn’t have many books suitable for children Franky’s age in her home, but her sister had left a few American Girl magazines in her study the last time she visited her.

“All the parts of a kite—paper, wood, glue, string, cloth, and a spool—aren't much together, but together they soar, Addy says.”

“I like that,” Franky commented. “That it works together to make it fly.”

“It’s a nice thought, isn’t it? No matter how useless something or a certain situation might seem, you might just have to look at a way to combine things to make it work,” Jen confirmed. Franky nodded as she downed the last sip of her drink, handing her mug to Jennifer. She positioned both of them on her nightstand before looking at the girl currently snuggled up to her side. This certainly wasn’t how she had expected to be spending her night, but for some reason, it was perfect for now. She felt the body against her own become heavy, and she heard Franky’s breathing slow down.

“Good night, Franky,” she whispered, as she closed her own eyes as well.

 

The next time Jennifer opened her eyes, she was greeted by the smell of something cooking. Confused to see that the other side of the bed was empty, she pulled on her robe and walked out of the bedroom to find Franky in her kitchen, cooking breakfast. Highly amused she sat down at her small table, and greeted her: “Good morning, Franky.” The girl turned around and beamed at her from the stove.

“Hi Miss Jen!” 

“What are you making, sweetheart?” She expected the girl to be frying some eggs, or possibly baking pancakes.

“Eggs benedict.” 

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Franky confirmed, “I read the recipe in a book, and you had the supplies. Or…” Suddenly she looked unsure of herself. “Don’t you like eggs benedict?” Smiling, the librarian confirmed: “I love eggs benedict; I just didn’t think you’d know how to make them! I’m a vegetarian though, so no bacon on mine.” Franky made a face at her.

“Why did you have bacon in your fridge then?”

“That’s for my brother. He sometimes has lunch with me.” Franky nodded. That made sense to her. “Shall I made us some tea then?” Jen asked.

 

Within a few minutes they were sitting at the table with two deliciously-smelling plates in front of them. 

“This is lovely Franky, thank you,” Jen commented as she cut a piece of the muffin. “You’re a very talented cook!” The girl’s cheeks turned red at the compliment, and she gazed at her tea. She mumbled: “Thank you.”

“After breakfast we’ll get dressed and I’ll drive you home, okay?” Jennifer suggested. Franky quietly nodded. She wasn’t looking forward to having to go back to her mother’s. “It’ll be okay, I promise.” Franky wasn’t too sure about that.

 

Franky had gotten increasingly quieter as they approached the building she lived in. It was a large contrast with the bright apartment they had just left: her home was grey, dark, and badly maintained. Her eyes grew large when she realised Jen was following her into the stairwell and up to the third floor.

“You don’t have to come with,” she commented as she pushed her key into the lock. The door opened with the slightest push. Great, her mum hadn’t even closed it properly. “Mum? I’m home!” she announced as she walked into the living room. It was a mess. The curtains were half-closed, and the stench of alcohol and cigarettes hung in the air. Half-eaten frozen dinners littered the flat surfaces, and empty cans of beer were everywhere. There was a time when Franky still tried to keep the house clean, but she didn’t see the point anymore. The house was silent. Jen carefully stepped inside behind the girl, cringing as she could feel something stick to her shoe. 

“She’s probably out buying beer,” Franky commented. “Her money is gone, and so is her medication.”

“Medication?” Jennifer asked, looking her eyes out. The place was a mess. 

“She has asthma.” Of course she did, Jen thought to herself. Suddenly a loud, raspy voice broke the silence: “Where the fuck have you been, Francesca?” Jennifer winced at the sudden harshness. She turned around to see who could only be described as an older version of Franky barge in through the door, except this woman was scarily skinny, with a yellowish hue to her skin and hollow eyes. “And who the fuck are you?” the woman spat at Jen, dumping two bags onto the floor. The contents rattled. Jennifer cleared her throat and politely offered her hand to the woman.

“My name is Jennifer White. I work for the State Library of Victoria.” Realisation dawned on the woman’s face.

“Oh, that’s just perfect now, isn’t it? You’re the bitch she never stops blabbing about! I’m Monica. Now get the fuck out of my house!” She pushed Jen’s hand away as she threw open the door, motioning into the hallway.

“But Mum!” Franky protested.

“I don’t give a shit! Get out!” Monica was getting more and more agitated by the second. Attempting to diffuse the situation, Jen raised her hands and moved towards the exit.

“It’s okay; I’m leaving. Have a nice day.” With a lump in her throat and a stone in her stomach she stepped back out into the stairwell, and Monica slammed the door shut behind her. She could hear the woman yelling at Franky. Attempting to shake the unsettling feeling, she took the stairs down to her car. With one last look at the building, she drove away, unable to get rid of the worry in the back of her mind about what exactly was going on in that small apartment.

 

-x-

 

_ On ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux. - Le Petit Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry _

 

-x-

 

It was an early Saturday morning when Isaac was approached by a woman who seemed to be in her early sixties. Her white-grey hair was pulled out of her face in a low ponytail, and she wore a navy blue blouse above light blue jeans. She smiled as she neared his desk.

“Good morning ma’am, how can I be of assistance?” he greeted her. The woman looked slightly unsure of herself as she replied: “Hi, I’m, uh, I’m looking for a Miss Jen? Who supposedly works here?”

“That would be Jennifer,” Isaac confirmed. “Follow the signs to the children’s wing, and she should be at the desk there.”

“Thank you,” the woman answered, and she walked off into the direction of the kids’ section.

 

Jen was going through new arrivals when someone gently clearing their throat caught her attention. She looked up to see hazel eyes looking curiously at her.

“Can I help you?” she asked. “Are you looking for a certain book, or an author, or a topic?” The woman shook her head.

“If I’m not mistaken, I’m looking for you. That is, if you are Miss Jen.” Jennifer shot the woman a confused look, but confirmed: “My name is Jennifer, but I am known here as Miss Jen, yes.” Smiling, the woman continued: “Oh, thank goodness! My name is Laura Ramsay, I’m a teacher at North Melbourne Primary School. Or, to be more precise, I teach a girl named Francesca Doyle.”

“Is Franky alright? Did something happen to her?” Jen felt the panic in her body increase exponentially. She was seconds away from grabbing her things, heading out early and going to wherever the tiny brunette was who had been keeping her entertained and concerned for quite some time now. She could barely recall what her days had been like before the drenched little kitten had walked into her section.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that!” Laura reassured Jen. “I just wanted to show you this.” She pulled two sheets of paper out of a manila folder and handed them to Jennifer. The librarian cleared some space on her desk and bent over slightly to examine what exactly the school teacher had just given her. The handwriting was large and slightly messy, but she could read what it said on the lines just fine.

 

_ Who I want to be like when I grow up, by  _ ~~_ Francesca _ ~~ _ Franky Doyle _

 

_ When I grow up, I don’t really want to be like anyone. I want to be like me. Being like someone else is boring. But because Mrs. Ramsay said I had to pick someone because otherwise this would be too short, I’ll pick Miss Jen. She works at the library, and she’s pretty okay. I like her. She knows a lot, and she’s nice to others. She doesn’t get angry. I don’t know how she does that. People yell at her, and I would bash their faces in, but she doesn’t. Maybe she’s scared of fighting. _

 

Jen chuckled at the little brunette’s observations.

 

_ She helps me sometimes and she gives me food sometimes. That’s nice. She doesn’t have to do that. I tell her that, but then she says she’ll do it anyway. I don’t understand why. Maybe I’ll understand when I’m older. That’s what Miss Jen says. _

 

_ Miss Jen doesn’t have kids. Or a husband. Mum says that’s because she’s too ugly for a boyfriend. But I don’t think that’s true. _

 

_ I hope this is long enough. It looks long enough to me. _

 

“Thank you,” Jen told the woman standing in front of her, looking at her expectantly. “Thank you for showing me this.” She attempted to hand the pages back to Laura, but she refused to take them back.

“I made a copy, so if you want, you can keep it.” Smiling, Jennifer nodded.

“I’d love to. Thank you.” She motioned for the woman to sit down in Franky’s chair. She could make an exception for the girl’s teacher.

“It’s I who should be doing the thanking,” the educator responded. “Ever since she began coming to this library, her grades have improved. She seems happier, and healthier, and she is getting in less fights. To be quite honest, part of the reason that I came here was that I wanted to see who has been helping her for myself!” She chuckled at her own admission. Jen blushed at the woman’s compliments. 

“I haven’t been doing anything special,” she protested. Mrs. Ramsay shook her head: “On the contrary, Miss White. You have offered her a safe place where she can be herself.”

 

-x-

 

_ There are times to stay put, and what you want will come to you, and there are times to go out into the world and find such a thing for yourself. - Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can't Avoid, Lemony Snicket (Daniel Handler) _

 

-x-

 

Jennifer was observing Franky as the young girl stacked books onto a shelf. It was going much slower than she usually managed to do it.

“It’s easier if you use both hands, Franky,” she commented, showing the girl how to grab an entire stack at once.

“Yeah, I know,” Franky confirmed, yet she continued to use only one hand to pick up books and place them onto the metal surface. Now that she was standing closer to her, Jen noticed that she was pressing her left arm against her upper body.

“Franky, are you hurt?” she asked, reaching out to touch the guarded limb. The little brunette let out a soft whimper, so soft that Miss Jen doubted she would’ve been able to hear it if it weren’t for the silence in between the shelves. “Sweetheart, we need to get that arm checked out. Franky shook her head furiously. 

“I don’t want to. I’ll be fine.” She turned her body so her arm was facing away from Jennifer.

“And if I come with you?” the librarian suggested. “My shift ends in an hour. Would that be okay?” After some contemplation, Franky shrugged.

“I guess so.” Smiling gently, Jen walked to the office to call her general practitioner for an appointment. 

 

A few hours later Miss Jen found herself sitting in the waiting room of the doctor’s office with the little brunette sitting next to her, looking positively nervous. Suddenly, she began to wonder whether Franky got check-ups regularly, or even whether she had ever actively been inside a doctor’s examination room.

“Francesca White?” Jen considered correcting the name, but the girl’s eyes had lit up the moment the wrong surname had been uttered. Gently nudging Franky, she guided her to follow the family doctor into a calm exam room. As they sat down, Franky looked smaller than she normally did.

“Hi Francesca, I’m Doctor Mary. What seems to be the problem?” the redheaded practitioner asked, smiling gently. 

“It’s Franky,” the brunette mumbled, before adding: “I hurt my arm. Miss Jen said we had to get it checked out.”

“Hop up onto the bench for me please. Did anything happen for you to hurt your arm?” Doctor Mary - or Doctor Mary Davis, as Jen knew her from high school - got up from behind the desk and led Franky over to the examination table. “Can you push your sleeve up so I can see your arm, or do you need to take it off for that?” Franky tried to bare her arm, but the uniform shirt was too tight around her bicep. “I’m afraid it’ll have to come off.”

“I’ll step out of the room for a bit if you want?” Jen offered. Franky nodded. She got up from her seat and walked out into the narrow corridor, impatiently waiting next to the closed door. She didn’t want to let Franky get the idea that she was abandoning her, but at the same time she wanted to respect the young girl’s privacy. After what felt like ages, both Franky and Doctor Davis appeared in the doorway.

“We’re all done here. Franky, you can go back to the waiting room. Jennifer, could I please speak with you about your prescription, while you’re here?” Mary asked, motioning for Franky to continue down the hall. Nodding, Miss Jen confirmed: “I’ll be right there, Franky. Go ahead. I won’t be long.” She followed the doctor back into the room.

 

Doctor Davis looked concerned as she motioned for Jen to take a seat, and instead of sitting down on the other side of the desk, she sat down next to the librarian.

“Jennifer, her arm seems okay, sprained but not broken, but I suggest you take her to get an X-ray just in case.” Jen nodded. Hopefully they could do that this afternoon. The hospital wasn’t far from the GP’s practice. “However,” the doctor continued, “I didn’t call you in here for any medication. Jennifer, the girl’s upper body is covered in scars. Burn marks, and marks that suggest beating or lashing.” Jen’s heart sunk at the unveiling.

“I already feared that would be the case,” she confided. “I’ve been compiling a file. There’s something seriously wrong in that household, but I can’t really prove anything.”

“I’ll testify if you need me to.”

“Thank you, Mary.”

 

-x-

 

_ Love... it surrounds every being and extends slowly to embrace all that shall be. - Kahlil Gibran _

 

-x-

 

Softly humming  _ The Carol of the Bells _ , Jen walked towards the front entrance of the State Library of Victoria. Standing at the doors, waiting for her to arrive, was Isaac.

“Thank you so much, Isaac,” she exclaimed as she approached the older security guard, “I don’t know how I could have left it here!” He smiled, unlocking the doors and disarming the alarm system.

“It's no trouble Jen. Really.” Together they walked towards her desk. Jennifer chuckled the moment she noticed that her wallet was lying on the middle of the surface, waiting to be picked up.

“You're lucky it's still here!” the grey-haired guard told her. “Anyone could've taken it with them!”

“They would've had a great Christmas then!” the librarian joked.

 

Standing back outside, Jen quickly hugged Isaac before he could protest.

“Thank you again, and merry Christmas.” He chuckled and replied: “You too Jen.” She watched him get into his car and drive away. Jen knew his Christmases had not been the same since his wife Marian had passed away, but this year was going to be spent with his grandson for the very first time. He was over the moon, and she was excited for him. 

 

Suddenly she spotted a small figure huddled near the bus stop in front of the steps to the library. As she came closer, she recognised the silhouette. 

“Franky?” The girl looked up at her, a surprised expression gracing her features.

“Miss Jen? Aren’t you supposed to be celebrating Christmas or something?”

“Aren’t you?” Jennifer countered, raising an eyebrow at the young girl. Franky shook her head.

“Mum’s spending Christmas with some new boyfriend. It’s just me at home.” The brunette shrugged. That couldn’t be. There was no way Jen was going to let that happen.

“Hold on.” She walked over to the nearest payphone and dialed a number she knew by heart.

 

_ “White household, Elizabeth speaking.” _ The high, clear tones of her mother’s voice warmed her heart. 

“Mum? It’s Jen.”

_ “Jennifer? Is everything alright? Will you be able to make it today?” _

“Mum, I’m fine, I promise,” Jennifer reassured her mother, who had always had the tendency to panic at the slightest incentive. “I’m still coming today. I was just wondering…”

_ “...you were just wondering what?” _

“Would we maybe have room for one more plate at the dinner table? And an extra bed?”

_ “Have you finally found yourself a nice man? Or a woman, that’s fine too. It would just complete our collection,”  _ her mother joked. After a soft rustling sound Jennifer suddenly heard a low male voice on the other end of the line.

_ “Hello Jennie, I’ve taken the phone from your overenthusiastic mother. Extra plate and a place to sleep shouldn’t be a problem. We’ll see you and our mystery guest tonight, yeah?”  _ Jennifer chuckled.

“Yeah, thanks Dad. See you.”

 

She exited the phone box to see Franky anxiously staring at her. The blonde librarian smiled and announced: “That’s been set. Can you go home and grab some clothes for a few days, and anything else you might need? Then I’ll come pick you up in about two hours.”

“But…” the young girl protested. Jen shook her head and told her: “No one should spend Christmas alone.” After a few silent seconds, Franky broke out in a large grin.

“Okay!”

 

It was quite a lengthy drive that took Miss Jen and Franky to her parents’ farmhouse outside of Melbourne. The distance made it impossible for her to visit them often, but she tried to go as often as she could. Franky had silently stared out of the window after she had picked the girl up from her home. The further they got, the more nervous she seemed to be getting, and the moment Jen turned off of the main road and entered through the main gate of the Whites’ grounds, she could have sworn she saw Franky swallow a lump in her throat.

“This is the farm I grew up on,” she explained as she followed the dirt path up to the main building. A figure was standing on the porch, waiting for them and waving in their general direction. Smiling, Jen killed the engine and gently announced: “We’re here! Come on, let’s get out, and you can meet my family.” 

 

Walking up to the house, the pair was greeted by a young man who wrapped his arms around Jen.

“Hey sis’!” His voice was clear and bright, and Franky liked his appearance. 

“Franky, this is my brother Victor. Vic, this is Franky. She’s…” Her voice trailed off, unsure of how to introduce the young brunette standing by her side, nearly hiding behind the librarian’s frame.

“Our guest, obviously! Hi Franky, come on in!” Victor stuck out his hand towards Franky and guided her inside, closely followed by his sister.

 

Victor led both of them into a large family kitchen, where an older couple was putting away groceries while a large Bernese mountain dog circled around their legs, hoping they’d drop some of the food they were stashing into cabinets. Franky’s pupils seemed to double in size at the sight of the huge canine.

“This is Nana,” Victor announced as he pointed at the dog. Franky shot him a confused look.

“Your nana is a dog?” Surely things like that only happened in fairy tales, didn’t they?

“Our dog is Nana, yes,” the man standing by the sink explained. “But our Nan is a grumpy old lady who’s coming tomorrow.” The woman next to him gently swatted his arm. 

“Ernest!” Chuckling, the man raised his hands in defeat and added: “Okay, she’s not grumpy. But she sure is old!” Shaking her head, the woman flicked a tea towel against his head before turning towards Franky and Jen.

“Hello, I’m Elizabeth, but everyone calls me Beth. This is my husband Ernest.

“This is Franky. Franky, this is my mum.” Jen gently coaxed the girl to walk up to her parents. Sensing the young girl’s nerves, Ernest smilingly crouched down and offered her his hand.

“Hi Franky; welcome! Jen, there’s an extra bed set up in your old room. If Franky would prefer to have her own room, Victor will share with you. Grandmum will be in the downstairs guestroom.” Franky’s head reeled at the mention of so many people she didn’t know, and she felt like fleeing the scene. Suddenly she felt Jen’s hand on her shoulder, grounding her.

“How about we go do a grand tour of the house and the grounds, and then you can choose where you want to sleep? Does that sound okay?” Breathing in deeply, Franky nodded. She would be okay. She had Miss Jen.

 

The house was large and spacious, and the abundance of clean rooms overwhelmed Franky. 

“Can I just stay with you?” she asked, her voice softer and smaller than usual. Jen smiled.

“Of course.”

 

The White family was a laid-back household, and dinner went by without any disturbances - well, except for Nana attempting to steal a piece of sausage off of Jen’s plate and Victor later sneaking her one of his with a wink to Franky. 

 

The next morning, the loud chatter of Beth White woke the entire farmhouse up as she talked on the phone.

“That’s wonderful, Charlotte! Have a wonderful time in Italy!” Jen chuckled as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, immediately checking on the little brunette on the other end of the room. Franky was lying on her stomach, propped up on her elbows, reading  _ Little Women _ . 

“Good morning,” Jen greeted the girl. Franky’s head shot up, and she grinned broadly. 

“Mornin’!”

 

After breakfast, Franky found herself helping two generations of White women in the final preparations for the arrival of the last guest. Suddenly a cacophony of noise filled the air. Shaking her head, Jennifer explained: “That’s my grandmother, but you can probably just call her Grandmum. Let’s go say hi.” Taking her by the hand, Jen led the young girl towards the front room. There, Victor and Ernest were standing to the side of a well-groomed elderly woman.

“Mum, this is Franky,” Ernest introduced the brunette to the lady. “Franky, this is my mother, Myrtle, or Grandmum White.” Encouraged by a gentle push from Jennifer, Franky stepped towards the woman to shake her hand.

“Oh, you finally had a child, Jennie! Victoria, Jennie had a daughter!” Myrtle exclaimed. Everyone in the room chuckled at the enthusiastic statement. When Franky shot them a confused look, Ernest explained: “Grandmum doesn’t always exactly know what’s going on, but that’s okay. We still love her. Come on, Mum, we’ll get you installed hey?” Once the two had left the room, Franky whispered: “Why does she call Victor Victoria?” Jennifer bit her lip, looking at Victor for permission. 

“It’s okay, Jen,” her brother responded, smiling. “You see Franky, I wasn’t always the way I am now. When I was born, I had the body of a girl, but I always knew I was supposed to be a boy. They made a mistake while putting me together, you see. So when Grandmum wasn’t as confused as she is now, she had a granddaughter called Victoria. By now, she has a grandson called Victor, but she doesn’t always remember that. It’s okay though. It hurts my feelings when people call me a girl on purpose, but I know that Grandmum doesn’t do it on purpose. Do you understand?” After a few silent seconds, Franky nodded slowly. 

 

The next morning was Christmas Day, and Jen excitedly brought Franky to the tree once they had woken up. 

“Why are we looking at the Christmas tree?” the girl asked confusedly. 

“Look at the purple package!” Jen pointed out, motioning at a slim, shiny wrapped gift sitting in the middle of the small pile. The label read  _ For Franky _ . Franky raised an eyebrow and asked “There’s something for me?”

“You bet there is!” The rest of the White family came walking in, and Ernest’s voice boomed through the room. “Go ahead; open it!” Suddenly giggling enthusiastically, the young girl nearly flew over to the package and carefully unwrapped it, unveiling a leather-bound diary and Parker pen. Franky gasped at the sight, tears filling her eyes.

“No-one’s ever gotten me something like this!” Jen smiled at the girl, though a stabbing pain affected her heart.

 

-x-

 

_ Mне кажется, если бы люди задумались о том, чем отличается первый день их жизни от последнего, они бы поняли, как много им нужно менять в середине. (I think if people thought about what makes the first day of their life different from the last, they would understand how much they need to change in the middle.) - Unknown _

 

-x-

 

Franky was putting away books as Macavity jumped up onto the cart she was pushing. 

“Mac, get off of there!” She chuckled as she scratched the cat’s head, the animal purring softly. Suddenly a deep, loud groan caught her attention. A young woman, probably in her early twenties, had dropped her head onto the table in front of her in frustration. Franky had seen her in the library sometimes. She admired her from a distance. The woman was always dressed so perfectly, moved so elegantly, and her red hair framed her face gorgeously. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to the woman and cleared her throat. Blue eyes looked up at her.

“Are you okay?” she asked, motioning at the array of books in front of her.

“It’s just...no,” the redhead confessed. “I have to take this mathematical statistics course for uni, and I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. I’ve always been bad at maths.” Franky glanced at the open pages on the table.

“I could help you.” The woman laughed at the proposition.

“I’m sorry, but, how old are you, twelve?” Franky scoffed and replied: “Thirteen-and-a-half, thank you very much. And I know how this works. Now do you want me to explain this to you or not?” She could feel Macavity nudging her legs. ‘Yes, Mac, I’ll try to be friendly,’ she told the kitty in her mind. Chuckling, the woman replied: “Alright then. Go ahead, please. But, first, what’s your name?” 

“Scout Finch.” Franky stated the name without hesitation. She prefered no one at the library besides Miss Jen and Mister Isaac to know her actual name. She liked her anonymity. Smiling, the woman was silent for a second. Then she replied: “Okay. I’m Éponine Thénardier.” Franky beamed at the realisation that the woman - no, Éponine - had caught on to her literary reference, and had returned it with one of her own. Grinning, she grabbed a seat next to Éponine and began explaining statistics 101 to her, completely forgetting the cart of books she was supposed to put back onto the shelves. Surprisingly, when she returned to the cart nearly two hours later, they had all been put away. Miss Jen shot her a wink from her desk.

 

“Hey, Scout?” Éponine calling her cover name caught her attention. “Can I buy you a burger as a thank you?” the woman asked as she was packing her things into her backpack. Franky looked over to Jennifer; technically she still had some work to do for the librarian. Smiling, Jen motioned for her to go. It was fine. Franky excitedly grabbed her coat from her chair and followed Éponine out of the building.

“There’s a great place just around the corner here, have you ever been there?” Franky shook her head. 

“My mum doesn’t really ever get takeout.” It wasn’t a lie. Her mum just never really got food in general. Often lunch at school, and a sandwich from Miss Jen or Mister Isaac if she was lucky, was all she ate in a day, and sometimes her neighbour would slip her a few bananas.

“Oh, one of those hippie types who don’t believe in fast food, huh?” Éponine commented. Franky just shrugged.

 

Within a few minutes, they were seated in a booth with burgers and milkshakes in front of them.

“Good huh?” Éponine asked as she put her wallet back into her backpack. Franky nodded enthusiastically while she took a large bite out of the hamburger, some of the sauce dripping out from between the bun.

“Real good!” the little brunette confirmed. Éponine chuckled.

 

-x-

 

_ “Never grow a wishbone, daughter, where your backbone ought to be.” - Clementine Paddleford  _

 

-x-

 

Every time Wednesday afternoon would come around, Jen would be slightly excited to see Franky tutor the young woman who’d come in every week. Admittedly, it was hilarious that the young girl explained statistics to a university student, but Franky - no, Scout - seemed to be very good at it. Maybe the girl should become a teacher, she considered. Afterwards, Éponine, as she’d introduced herself to Franky, would take Franky out for dinner, as a way of rewarding her for her help and time. Even Jen didn’t know her actual name, but Éponine seemed fitting for the elegant redhead. She had once asked her why she always studied in the children’s wing instead of one of the other sections, and Éponine had just replied that she prefered the atmosphere in Jen’s area.

 

Jen had been observing Scout and Éponine from a distance for about twenty minutes, when she saw Éponine get up from her seat at the table.

“I’ll be right back,” the student told the little brunette. She walked away from her work and approached Jen, turning away from Franky.

“Can I help you?” Jen asked.

“Scout, I think there’s something wrong with her. She’s sluggish; she’s making mistakes. I think she’s sick, Miss White.” She motioned at the silhouette of Franky, who had laid her head on top of her folded arms on the table. “Should we call her parents?” Jen cleared her throat, and nearly whispered: “I doubt that will help, but yes, I will. I’ll check her out first.”

 

Jen walked over to Franky, followed closely by Éponine, and carefully laid a hand on Franky’s back. She felt warm and sweaty.

“Franky, sweetheart, are you feeling okay?” Franky’s reply was mumbled and barely audible, but Jen could just make out a: “No…”

“I’ll take you home, then.” Jen rushed over to her desk and grabbed her things, also picking up Franky’s coat on her way. She gingerly got Franky to get up from the table she and Éponine had been working at, and together they walked towards the exit. 

“Isaac, could you tell Miss Havisham that I had to go? Franky’s sick,” she asked the grey-haired security guard. He nodded, and leant over to ruffle Franky’s hair.

“Feel better soon, little one.” Just as she was about to walk outside, Jen was stopped by a gentle hand on her arm, holding her back. She spun around to face Éponine, who was looking at the little brunette with a worried look on her face.

“I’m aware that I am imposing, but I was wondering…” She bit her lip. “Would it be okay if I came with? I feel responsible in a way.” Jen looked at Franky, who nodded absentmindedly. 

“Come on then,” Jen confirmed, and guided both girls to her car.

 

Arriving at Franky’s apartment building, Jen managed to get everyone out of her car. Franky nearly fell to the floor when she attempted to climb the stairs, so she handed her bag to Éponine and lifted Franky up the steps. For once, she was grateful that the girl was underweight. She was as light as a feather. The door to the small apartment was open just a notch. Pushing against it with her shoulder, Jen let herself and the little brunette into the hallway. At the sound of people entering her home, Monica came slouching into her field of view.

“What the fuck are you doing here, library bitch?” Jen took a deep breath before she replied: “Hello, Monica. Your daughter is sick. She’s got a fever, so I brought her home.” Monica gazed over Jen’s shoulder at Éponine.

“And who the hell are you?” Jen immediately replied: “She alerted me to her condition.” Who Éponine was, was none of Monica’s darn business. 

“I don’t give a shit,” the seething brunette replied. “She can have cancer for all I care; don’t expect me to become the doting mummy all of a sudden, you little slut.” Jen could feel Franky wince in her arms. “And why are you holding her? She’s old enough to be standing on her own.” Without thinking, Jen suddenly announced: “If you’re not going to nurse her back to health, I will.”

“Do what you can’t resist,” Monica replied as she went into a severe coughing fit. “I need my meds.” She walked away, into the living room. Shaking her head, Jen turned to Éponine.

“Could you watch her for just a second? I’ll grab some clothes for her.” Éponine nodded at her, and Jen carefully put Franky down. She walked into the living room to find Monica lighting another cigarette.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, why are you even still here?”

“I need to get some of her clothes. Where’s her room?” The intoxicated woman pointed towards a door at the far end of the room. 

 

Franky’s room was the opposite of the rest of the apartment. It was clean and neat, and it looked like Franky had tried her best to make it homely. She spotted an empty backpack on the bed, and pulled open the closet doors. Franky didn’t have many possessions, but the few ones she did have could all fit in the bag. Looking around the room Jen found a small stuffed bunny under Franky’s pillow. It’s belly was torn, and part of the stuffing was coming out, though from the looks of it the girl had attempted to fix it with some tape. She’d fix it for her, she decided. Finally, she grabbed the girl's school uniform and walked back out into the hallway to find Franky leaning against Éponine, who was gently rubbing her back. 

“I'm taking her with me now,” she announced into the general direction of Monica. 

“I don't give a fuck!” the woman screamed, and an empty beer can came flying through the doorway, barely missing Jen's head.

“And I'm here to witness that,” Éponine whispered. Jennifer nodded: “Let's go.” 

 

As she pulled out of the parking space, Jen asked Éponine: “Can I drop you off anywhere?” 

“Anywhere is fine,” the young woman replied. “I’ll just take a bus home.”

“There’s a stop right in front of my building?”

“Perfect!” Both women smiled at each other. Jen motioned at the girl slouched against Éponine’s frame in the back seat of the car.

“How’s she doing?”

“She needs a safe place to lie down and sleep,” the redhead told her. Jennifer silently prayed for the traffic to go easy on them so she could get Franky to a bed soon.

 

Thankfully the infrastructure Gods decided to have mercy on them, and the three girls made it to Jen's apartment within minutes. For once she was glad she lived on the ground floor, because she had absolutely no idea how she would have gotten Franky up more than three steps in this state. Éponine graciously helped Franky to the couch, before scribbling something down on a piece of paper she fished out of her bag.

“My number, address and my email address. If you need help, let me know.”

“Thank you,” Jen told the young woman as she escorted her out of the building and slipped her a 5-dollar note. “For the bus.” Éponine objected: “You really don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to,” Jennifer replied with a wink. The young woman smiled and accepted the money. With a small wave and a gentle ‘bye!’ she disappeared around the corner.

 

-x-

 

_ Do not look at yourself with disgust, you are a gift to this earth. You are beautiful, you are a light, an energy, an essence. You are nature herself. - Heidi Pickett _

 

-x-

 

“Hey Miss Jen?” Franky asked as she was flipping through a book at Jennifer’s desk. The librarian hummed in acknowledgement of the question.

“Do you know what a lesbian is?” Jen chuckled inwardly at the innocent question, but confirmed: “Yes.”

“Well, ‘cause I think I might be one,” Franky mumbled, hiding her face behind the cover.

“That’s great Franky, would you still like that sandwich I was saving for you?” Jen motioned at the wrapped bread waiting for the little brunette on the corner of her desk. Dropping the book onto the surface with a dull clap, Franky stared at her incredulously. “What?”

“No big gasp? No telling me that God intended me to like blokes? Nothing? Just…’do ya want a sandwich?’ What the fuck, Miss Jen!” 

“Language, Franky!” the librarian objected. “But no. I believe God made us exactly the way he wanted us to be. That means that Victor is a man, no matter what his birth certificate says or what others thinks. That means that I don’t want a partner. And if it means that you like girls, then that’s fine.” She shrugged. “All that matters is whether you’re happy, Franky.” Content with the reply, Franky accepted the neatly-wrapped sandwich. 

 

That evening, while Jen stood outside the library, talking to Isaac while he locked the doors, suddenly a dark-haired tornado came flying her way.

“You! You've been putting those ideas in my daughter's mind!” Before Jennifer realised what was going on, Monica Doyle-Moretti had her pushed up against the brick building with her hand against the librarian’s throat. With a strong pull, Isaac pulled the furious woman off of Jen, holding her back while the alcoholic swatted into her direction. The woman reeked of booze. Coughing, Miss Jen replied: “I have no idea what you're talking about, Monica.”

“Just because you're a dyke that doesn't mean you can brainwash my daughter into thinking that she's a whore as well!” Ah, so that was what this was about. Shaking her head, the librarian replied: “First of all, I am not a lesbian. Secondly, Franky can be whatever she feels she is. And thirdly, I do not have to defend myself.” Isaac let the woman go, stepping into the space between the two. Monica screamed into the evening air, and pointed at both of them.

“You haven't heard the last of me!” With that, she stormed off.

 

-x-

 

_ Hate, it has caused a lot of problems in the world, but has not solved one yet. - Maya Angelou _

 

-x-

 

“I'm sorry Miss White, but you're too late.” The social worker looked at her with empathy as she declared her fate. Jen shook her head.

“What do you mean? Surely there is a way for me to get custody of her.” 

“Yesterday our team removed her from her biological mother’s home, and she has been relocated to a crisis group. Franky Doyle now is our responsibility.” 

 

Jennifer slammed her palm down onto the desk in frustration. 

 

-x-

 

_ Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage. - Laozi 老子 _

 

-x-

 

“Jesus, Gidge, how much shit can one woman own?” Franky exclaimed as she took in the amount of boxes piled up along the walls of Bridget's childhood home. Chuckling, Bridget replied: “Those aren't mine. They're my brother's. These,” she pointed to a small, neat stack of plastic boxes, “are mine. Only the colour-coded ones.” Franky shook her head and began helping her girlfriend move her possessions downstairs. When everything had been relocated to the middle of the living room floor, Bridget and her mother Elizabeth began opening the boxes and sorting the contents. Suddenly, Bridget let out a soft gasp.

“Look, Mum!” She held up a small brown teddy bear. Her mother smiled and confirmed: “Well would you look at that! It's Paddington!” The blonde cradled the tiny soft toy against her chest. “Did you have a stuffed animal when you were young?” Elizabeth asked, turning towards Franky. She smiled at the memory as she answered: “I had this bunny; its name was Peter Cottontail. It got torn, but this librarian who used to look after me fixed it.” 

 

Bridget nearly choked in a coughing fit as her eyes went huge. When she'd managed to catch her breath, she exclaimed: “No fucking way. Nah-uh. That can't be.”

“What?” 

“Scout?” 

 

Franky thought she was going to fall over.

“Éponine?!”

 

-x-

 

_ I have to say that although it broke my heart, I was, and still am, glad I was there. - The Book Thief, Markus Zusak _

 

-x-

 

Bridget squeezed Franky's hand as they approached the steps leading up to the brick building. The brunette was trembling while they climbed them and went through the doors. On memory alone, they turned right towards the brightly decorated section. Though the decor had changed, the building itself hadn't changed much. A desk was still positioned in the middle of the children's area, a librarian still seated behind it, concentrating on a stack of papers through her reading glasses. Her hair had turned grey, but she really hadn't changed at all. Franky cleared her throat gently.

 

Miss Jen looked up. Shock flashed across her face, followed by a display of absolute love. 

 

-x-

 

_ When we speak of man, we have a conception of humanity as a whole, and before applying scientific methods to the investigation of his movement we must accept this as a physical fact. But can anyone doubt to-day that all the millions of individuals and all the innumerable types and characters constitute an entity, a unit? Though free to think and act, we are held together, like the stars in the firmament, with ties inseparable. These ties cannot be seen, but we can feel them. I cut myself in the finger, and it pains me: this finger is a part of me. I see a friend hurt, and it hurts me, too: my friend and I are one. And now I see stricken down an enemy, a lump of matter which, of all the lumps of matter in the universe, I care least for, and it still grieves me. Does this not prove that each of us is only part of a whole? _ _  
_ _ For ages this idea has been proclaimed in the consummately wise teachings of religion, probably not alone as a means of insuring peace and harmony among men, but as a deeply founded truth. The Buddhist expresses it in one way, the Christian in another, but both say the same: We are all one. _

_ Metaphysical proofs are, however, not the only ones which we are able to bring forth in support of this idea. Science, too, recognizes this connectedness of separate individuals, though not quite in the same sense as it admits that the suns, planets, and moons of a constellation are one body, and there can be no doubt that it will be experimentally confirmed in times to come, when our means and methods for investigating psychical and other states and phenomena shall have been brought to great perfection. Still more: this one human being lives on and on. The individual is ephemeral, races and nations come and pass away, but man remains. Therein lies the profound difference between the individual and the whole. _

_ \- Никола Тесла (Nikola Tesla) _

  
  


_ ~Fin. _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This work is one I have been working on for months, and uploading it feels terrifying as it has become my baby of sorts. Please let me know what you think, and thank you so much for reading this.
> 
> All characters' names were inspired by characters from famous literature - try to figure them all out if you'd like!


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